Quirks and Qualities
by Geminium
Summary: I didn't exactly want to be a Pokemon trainer. Sure I liked them, maybe even more than others. There was only one tiny problem: I was scared of Pokemon. Like easily scared. I hate getting bitten or scratched or Arceus knows what. So how in the world did I end up taking care of one anyways?
1. Jealousy is overrated

**Authors Note:** A story inspired by the fanfic 'Pedestal' except for the fact that I have no idea how this story will end up :D

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pokemon or anything made by Game Freak.

* * *

To be honest, I never really wanted to be a Pokemon trainer. I actually wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer, or any other profession that earned a decent amount of money. Something that would allow me to live a peaceful life, with a house and family and maybe just the odd pet or two.

It's not that I don't like Pokemon. In fact, I like them a lot, maybe even a bit more so than my classmates. The only problem is, well... I get scared by them easily (but only a little!). Looking at them is fine, but the second they get close, I start getting worried that they might bite my hand off. Or worse.

Needless to say, not exactly the best mindset for a trainer. Whoever heard of a Pokemon trainer being afraid of Pokemon?

Still, the fact that I was scared of Pokemon wouldn't have mattered at all, and I would've gone on admiring them from a distance while going on with my mon-free life if Jesse hadn't decided to blab all over the schoolyard about his new starter Pokemon.

"My dad got him from a breeder," he said proudly, "says it's going to be really strong when it evolves, and I bet it knows tons of cool moves from its parents."

You had to admit, Rex was pretty impressive. Despite its size, the Aron stared at us the way a Skarmory would stare before it swooped down and grabbed whatever prey had happened to cross its path. No one in our class was brave enough to try and pet it.

At any rate, it quickly became apparent that many of us were approaching the age when we could journey out on our own as certified trainers. Jesse had been the oldest in our class; Rex had probably been an early birthday gift from his parents before he set out. That said, talk within our class soon revolved around one topic and one topic only: Pokemon. And not just any Pokemon either. Starter Pokemon.

"I'm getting a Houndour. My cousin has one and it's got this massive fire attack-,"

"Yeah, well I'm going to get a Riolu. My mom knows this guy that sells a lot of rare Pokemon and I heard he's going to give us one for half-price."

"I'd want a Scyther; it has these really huge claws that can cut through anything!"

And so everyone would go around, naming random Pokemon that they'd want for their starter or eventually, their team. Some of them would get them too. Lisa, the smartest kid in our class, received her Aipom a week after Rex's appearance. Owen got his long-awaited Torchic soon after, and it all went downhill from there.

Pretty soon, everyone had gotten a Pokemon and, along with their license, skipped town as soon as they could. Everyone except me, that is. Well... everyone except me and a few other kids, who all got Pokemon anyway because they wanted to be a breeder or a ranger or go into some other Pokemon-related job.

At that point, I'd pretty much taken all I could and decided to get a Pokemon myself. I might be scared to death of them but I sure as heck wasn't going to be the only kid in my class without one. There was just one _tiny_ problem; I didn't have any money. Not even an allowance. The closest I got to hard cash were the couple bucks that Uncle Jared gives me whenever he visits to spend on candy at the dollar store.

So I went and did the next best thing; I asked my mom. "Can I have a Pokemon?"

She just stared at me like I'd grown an extra head, "Why?"

"Cause they're cool," I didn't want to tell her I wanted one because everyone else had gotten a Pokemon already. All I'd get then was a lecture about being jealous or greedy and I was never very fond of those.

Sadly, my mom didn't buy it. "Do you have a specific reason for wanting one?" I squirmed under her gaze like every kid does when their parents know they're lying.

"Yes."

"Then what is it?" There it was; the question. In that moment, I knew I had to come up with a good reason to get my mom to buy a Pokemon for me. Otherwise, I'd have to wait for my birthday (which had already passed) or resort to grovelling and whining (I'm not above using underhanded methods).

The next words that came out of my mouth might've been the stupidest (and perhaps the most brilliant) words that I'd ever uttered in my ten-year old life.

"I want a Pokemon because I want to be a trainer."

She gave that look again, as if she couldn't quite understand what I was saying. I couldn't really believe what I was saying either, and probably would've smacked myself if I hadn't been in the middle of a parental interrogation.

"Well... do you have a particular Pokemon that you want?" I couldn't believe my ears.

"Y-you're really going to get one for me?"

She nodded, her disbelief quickly melting into a smile. "Alright, settle down. I know you're excited but you don't have to squeal about it."

I immediately huffed and crossed my arms. I did not squeal. It was just that my long forgotten tendencies towards Pokemon had chosen that exact moment to come rushing back and had prompted a... _yell_... to escape my lips.

Even so, I couldn't deny the anticipation of having my very own Pokemon. I'd so far kept my distance from all my classmates' starters because I wasn't sure if they'd bite me or strangle me (or in some cases, both), but I was hoping that _this_ Pokemon, my soon-to-be best friend in the whole world, wouldn't ever hurt me like that.

Oh, how wrong I was.


	2. Hapless Introductions

**Author's Note:** Sorry if this chapter sounds a bit weird. It's pretty hard to write out beginnings, but I tried my best.

**Disclaimer:** Same as in the first chapter.

* * *

If there's one thing I learned about anticipation, it's that it always stabs you in the back.

Mom might have agreed to get a Pokemon, but the problem was that I'd never said which one. I didn't have a list of Pokemon I wanted like all the other kids, and it wasn't like I'd memorized the Pokedex forwards and backwards (which some kids had done), so I was pretty much stuck with what my mom had gotten for me.

That's not the worst of it though. The worst of it was when she told me I'd have to wait for a week until my Pokemon arrived by mail.

That week was the longest week I'd ever lived in my entire _life._

I was stuck between jumping with joy at the prospect of having my very own Pokemon and nervously gnawing my fingertips off at the thought of getting a really, really lame one. It was my mom, after all. For all I know, she could've gotten me a Sunkern or a Magikarp.

The other part of my mind though, was desperately hoping that I might be wrong, and that my mom had decided to get something awesome to keep me safe from all the other Pokemon in the wild. The best choice (that was on my 'list' anyway) would be a Growlithe. Loyal, cute, friendly, and most important of all, _safe_. In that part of my mind, the worst I'd get was probably a Numel.

Probably.

By the time my Pokemon arrived, I was practically bouncing off the walls with sheer delight. So much so, that I nearly ended up strangling the mailman and his Wingull when he tried to hand me the small brown package containing my pokeball. Even the point-blank water gun shot at my face did little to crush my enthusiasm.

Hurrying into the house, I ripped apart the packaging and opened up the box. There, nestled among the cushion of bubblewrap was a single pokeball. I reached out to grab it, only to pull back at the last second.

My very own Pokemon. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to me what owning a Pokemon would really mean. Would it like me? More importantly, would _I_ like it? I wasn't exactly top trainer material, nor had I paid much attention in Pokemon training classes.

Only one way to find out. I took hold of the pokeball and pressed down on the circular button.

A burst of light escaped the capsule, before forming into small, brown and blue wings. Wide eyes attached to a red beak stared back at me, curious as a Zigzagoon. It was... well I didn't know _what_ it was, but I was feeling pretty underwhelmed by its appearance. It looked like some horrible drawing of a bird Pokemon made by a two-year old with color crayons.

Still... it was my starter. Maybe it wouldn't be all bad. I reluctantly extended my hand, hoping to pet it. The Pokemon tilted its head, like it was sizing me up before breakfast, before resting its head on my palm.

Then it bit me.

-O_O-

It was only two hours, one rather disgruntled Officer Jenny, several bandages, and many phone calls later that everything settled down again. Apparently, the neighbours could only endure so much yelling (read: screaming) before deciding to report a 'disturbance' in the neighbourhood. If it'd been me, I'd have called the police _much_ sooner.

Mom wasn't any help either. All she did was chastise me (Me!) for letting that... _monster_ run throughout the house! How was it my fault?! I'm supposed to be the victim here!

"You scared it, and it reacted. That's how all Pokemon do survive." So _she_ says.

I on the other hand, was convinced that my starter was out to get me and make me suffer for being its trainer. I never said it aloud though, and simply nodded along. The sooner I started my journey, the sooner I could try and catch another Pokemon to use.

Unfortunately, it seemed that 'sooner' would turn out to be much later than I thought. In all the ensuing chaos, I'd forgotten all about registering as an official trainer and getting my license. Granted, I actually hadn't planned to become a trainer in the first place, but there was little I could do to back out now.

Not unless I wanted to be grounded for a year (believe me, I only _wish_ I was joking).

So there I was, awkwardly shuffling through the double glass doors of the Pokemon Center, all while trying not to look too out of place. Luckily, our town didn't get many trainers, what with it being so near an active volcano. The place was empty save for two trainers, both of them too focused on their Pokemon to care about me.

"Welcome to the Pokemon Center," Nurse Joy chimed, "Is there anything I can do for you today?"

"Y-yeah, um... Can I register as a Pokemon trainer here please?" I said it in a really small voice, hoping the other two wouldn't overhear me.

"Of course! Just place your Pokemon down on the tray and I'll get started on your trainer card."

*CLICK*

I jumped at the loud sound, only to come face-to-face with a Chansey holding a small camera.

"Chansey!" she took another one, before hopping over to Nurse Joy, who seemed to be typing some complicated instructions into the computer.

"Hmm... it says here that you haven't named your Archen yet."

"...Archen?"

"Yes, Archen. That's its species name. Did you not know that?" _That_ certainly turned heads. I gulped as I saw a female trainer stifle a small giggle out of the corner of my eye.

"O-of course I did!" I lied. I didn't want to sound like an idiot in front of her, and especially not when two other people were listening in as well.

"Well, you should give it a name. Most trainers give one so they're easier to tell apart from other Pokemon of their species."

"O-ok." I really needed to stop stuttering my words.

Nurse joy smiled again; probably picking up on my nervousness, "There's no shame in taking time to name your Pokemon. The Center often provides accommodations for travelling trainers and you're more than welcome to stay."

"T-thanks!" I returned the grin, some of the tension easing off from my shoulders. At least _someone_ was being helpful in this town.


	3. Something new is born

**Author's Note:** I promise the chapters will get longer eventually. Maybe.

**Disclaimer:** Same as in first chapter.

* * *

After getting a room (and a shower) at the Center, I finally decided it was time to get things in order. The small incident at the reception desk reminded me that, as much as I tried to deny it, I had hardly any experience preparing and going on a journey as an actual trainer. If I were to have any chance at staying alive as one, I might as well start acting like it too.

So the first thing I did was research. More specifically, about my starter Pokemon. I learned that Archen was one of several different kinds of Pokemon being revived from old fossils, and that it was one of the first few bird Pokemon to live on the Earth. Apparently, some wise-guy thought it was a good idea to send prehistoric (and likely savage) creatures to new trainers.

Still, the thought gave me hope that it might've all just been some sort of a mix-up, and that my real starter had somehow been switched with the monstrosity that was now safely secured in my knapsack. Hey, a guy can dream right?

It also turns out my Pokemon has an ability called Defeatist, which lowers my starter's strength by half if he gets hurt enough.

You know how I said that it might be a mix-up? Scratch that. Now I just want to find the guy that did this to me and pummel him for it (like I said, a guy can dream).

I also did some basic research about Pokemon in general. Stuff like type-match-ups and where certain types of Pokemon live, including a beginner's guide to training. I was good at memorizing things, and the familiarity of it made me feel a little bit less awkward about the whole 'training' thing.

Finally, I asked Nurse Joy about where I could stock up on items for travelling. I ended up blowing a third of my money (courtesy of my mom's generousness) simply on potions and getting proper travel attire, along with a map of the region. I'd decided I want to go to Lavaridge Town first, seeing as it had a fire-type gym. At the very least, my Archen would have a type advantage over the gym leader's Pokemon.

Speaking of which, my Archen still didn't have a name yet. It had been the one subject I'd been trying to avoid all day, and I couldn't put it off any longer. So I let my starter out of its ball.

The Pokemon hopped around curiously, taking its (his? Nurse Joy _did_ say it was a male) new surroundings. It gave the small park we were in a cursory glance, before sidling up to my leg and peered up at me with its large eyes.

"Chen!" I winced. It sure was loud, but at least it wasn't trying to bite me again. Or worse, chasing me.

"Looks like you got quite a Pokemon there, huh?" I turned towards the speaker who'd snuck up behind me. It was the girl who'd laughed at me when Nurse Joy had asked if I knew what my Archen's species was. "Hi, name's Libby. Can I pet it?"

"Uh... sure, if you want," I said, unsure of what to say. "B-be careful... he bites."

She smiled and glanced knowingly at my hands, "I know."

She reached out to my starter, palm outstretched. However, instead of biting her fingers off as I'd expected him to, my Archen chirped playfully before nuzzling against her fingers.

Needless to say, my jaw dropped to the floor. "H-how do you do that!?"

She simply shrugged. "Experience mostly. Pokemon can usually tell if a trainer's good or not using their instincts. Badges help, but it's all up to you to keep them in line."

I groaned. Perfect. So not only did I have a savage Pokemon for a starter, I had to be reminded that I was a horrible trainer too.

"Hey no worries, you'll get used to it." And before I knew what was happening, she'd picked up my Archen and dropped him straight into my lap.

Yeah... I was never really good with surprises. Especially if said surprise was a twenty pound prehistoric bird that liked to bite me. Still, it was all I could do to stop blushing as laughter rang throughout the park.

"You... y-you..." Libby clutched her sides as she rolled on the ground.

"S-shut up! It's not funny!" My face only heated up more as her laughter doubled. Below, my Archen squawked derisively. Great, now my own starter was laughing at me too.

"I... I-I'm sorry okay?" She managed to get a hold of herself, even though a large grin remained. "I mean, I've never seen anyone climb a tree just to get away from their own starter."

"Yeah well, it's complicated," I tried not to pout as I unsteadily jumped down from my perch.

"I'll say," Libby crossed her arms, "You look like you need all the help you can get. Haven't you ever taken Pokemon training classes?"

"Yes." I mumbled, not making eye contact as my face heated up again. Libby sighed and gave a resigned smile.

"Tell you what. How about you be my travel buddy till Rustboro, and I'll give you a few pointers on training in exchange."

"R-really? You'd do that? Why?" I looked warily at her.

She grinned cheekily. "Cause if I didn't, I'm pretty sure you'd still be up in that tree, waiting for someone to get you down." I huffed and turned away. That jab was uncalled for!

Still, I mulled it over in my mind. The offer was great and all, except for the fact that I didn't want to go to Rustboro; I was headed for Lavaridge. I looked at my starter, who tilted his head at me curiously.

Then again, it wasn't like I'd be in any shape to battle anybody, much less a Gym Leader. A type advantage was useless if my starter didn't listen to me. Libby was also older and more experienced than me, so it wouldn't be too bad to pick up a few tips from her.

"How many badges do you have?"

"She smirked. "Five more than you do. I'm on my way to Petalburg for my sixth."

"Mmmmm..." I hummed reluctantly, before giving up with a sigh, "Fine. I'll go to Rustboro."

And that's how I ended up with my first (trainer) friend, Libby

-O_O-

"First things first, you gotta figure out a name for your Archen."

I groaned, sinking down into my chair. "Can't we just call him by his species name?"

Libby wagged her spoon at me, "No can do, kiddo. The sooner you give him one, the easier it'll be to bond with him. That's Trainer Rule Number One." She dipped the utensil back into her sundae and resumed eating.

"There are _rules?_" The training guide had never mentioned specific rules, and I was pretty sure they were being made up.

"Course there's rules," she mumbled through a mouthful, then swallowed. "Everything does. The tricky part is knowing which rules to follow depending on the situation." My Archen squawked in agreement, its beak smeared with my untouched dessert. Formerly untouched. "There's a lot of unspoken rules among trainers that aren't in the guides you know, like how to raise your Pokemon, and what to do in survival situations. Stuff like that. The first one though, is to name your Pokemon."

I looked at my starter, who was still busy digging into my sundae. Its ruffled feathers were getting wet from all the desert, while its claws continued to greedily stuff globs of ice cream into its beak.

"The Devourer."

"Oh yeah, that's a _real_ original name there."

"Fine then. How about the Destroyer? Or Des for short?"

"Trust me, its' been done like, a thousand times already," Libby leaned back on her chair. "Try something more down to Earth, like Sherman."

"Sherman?" I was _not_ going to name my starter Sherman. It sounded stupid, and for a moment, I wondered if Libby had actually named any of her Pokemon that.

"Chomper."

"Seen it."

"Ravage."

"Done."

"Jaws?"

"Are you even trying with these names?"

"Look, I'm not good with naming things, okay?" I wsn't sure I liked Libby's running commentary, but I didn't say that aloud. I was afraid she'd try to give me more suggestions for names. Besides, if I had to call my Archen anything, it'd have to be something that conveyed my starter's tendency to bite things (me especially). I refused to name him anything else. And then it hit me.

"Chewy." I said.

"Hmm?" Libby looked up from her plate.

"Chewy," I said in a louder voice. "His name will be Chewy." My starter turned to me as I mentioned his name.

"Isn't that the name of some movie char-"

"His name's Chewy and that's final!" I cut in before she could shoot it down, followed by a loud squawk of approval from my newly-named starter. At least this was one thing we agreed on.

"Fine, fine, I give," Libby smiled as she held up her hands in surrender, "Chewy the Archen, huh? Guess I got my work cut out for me this time." She stood up from her seat and hoisted her knapsack onto her shoulder.

"Wait... Where are you going?"

"Travelling! You named your Archen right? So let's get a move on! We don't have all day you know."

"B-but we can stay in the Pokemon Center!"

"Can't hear you! See you on Route 114!" And with that, she took off with a light jog.

Chewy and I exchanged glances. "W-wait up!" I rushed off to catch her, Chewy hot on my heels.


End file.
